You have to do it, one way or another.

Ah, to be honest, this post took several tries to finally get up. Mostly it’s because I never actually got around to finish it, and whenever I did I forgot to post it up (it happens, because I type it down on MS Words and forgot to save it). And when I’m finally adamant on completing it, like tonight (and I’m sure I will), I realise that I have nothing much to tell.

The week was busy and hectic, and the aftermath was a tense, constricting air of anticipation; how it works into anticipation, I guess I wouldn’t able to describe. But there was, certainly, a bated breath of worry and wonderment, of which that seem to sprout out, raven like, to latch on a tree and watch wordlessly.

It’s like we’re all waiting for something bad to happen, or something to give reason and stand and shout and lob mash potatoes at one another. Like we’re waiting for something to blame.

(This is, of course, the stupid things I thought I felt and mostly best to do away as nonsense).

And the workload never ended. What ended, however, was the urgency of it. And I’m certainly not feeling it, aside from the way it settles down the gut like guilt (for all in the world it is), but heck; I’m supposed to be swamped and buried, but I’m here and I’m blogging and I have two tabs featuring Naruto and Slam Dunk.

Tomorrow! I swear, tomorrow I’ll get it done… tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow row row row rowrowyourboatgentlydownthestream…

******

I was food-poisoned on Tuesday.

Or rather, my epicurean self did. He insisted that his unrelenting thirst for epicure demands that I purchase that roadside nasi lemak I’ve eyed for a week, to be consumed for dinner. He said if I didn’t, I would forever feel the wrath of not having passion for good food (dear heavens no!), for he controls that side of my longings, so I gave in and bought it. I ate it for dinner.

And after I washed it down with water, I felt this feeling that went sorta felt like, oh shit. And the epicurean self, he was looking away shiftily and starting whistling.

And then I was feeling all rumbly-tumbly, as Pooh may have put it after some bad honey.

And then it was like the Brazilian Fire-breathing Troupe was performing for the Queen of England in my gut.

So I went to bed early and thought I’d sleep it out…

Then I woke up at 4 and barely left the toilet.

So I took Wednesday off from classes (impeccable timing, really; I had quite a lot of work and it needed to be tended to immediately). I gained a lot of reading time, and at one point I thought, wouldn’t it be great if the toilet had a drink stand and some sun so that I can read and drink lemonade? (this point, I knew I was seriously f-ed up).

But it wasn’t that bad. Least I didn’t go until I had to crawl around with shivering knees and the loss of all hope of living. In fact, come dinner, I was strangely full of appetite, but the parents forced porridge on me and told me to lay of the spice and fry-ies for a few days.

I thankfully still got the work done, and it’s thanks to me group mates who stayed around and helped.

As of now, I’ve given the epicurean self a good lecturing, and he promised no more roadside nasi lemak aside from the ones I trusted. I said, good enough. No more new roadside ones.

He grinned at me, and said, so, what’s for lunch?

I asked dad, and he said, rojak stall down in Sg. Chua.

Ah, noodles vegetables egg tofu bean-sprout cucur udang aaaaand sotong.

I’ve noted as I go, the way I would not know,
But hey, Why not stop?
The daisies are blooming.
Perfect day, perfect place
For picnicking down the mountains.

(Lalalalalala…)